


i want to ride my bicycle

by inklingchild



Series: Patton's Pick-Me-Ups [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Creativitwins, Crying, Hypothermia, Kinda, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, but essentially Remus thinks about how everyone would be better off without him, he does not want to hurt himself tho, it's a little difficult to describe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inklingchild/pseuds/inklingchild
Summary: Who knew biking for an hour in the rain at eleven at night was a bad idea? Remus sure didn’t.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: Patton's Pick-Me-Ups [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980256
Comments: 37
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> !!! please pay attention to the warnings !!!
> 
> warnings: potentially suicidal thoughts, bike crash, potential rib and back injury, bad families
> 
> kudos and comments are very appreciated! stay safe, kiddos <3

Who knew biking for an hour in the rain at eleven at night was a bad idea? Remus sure didn’t, not after another screaming match with his parents that ended in him slamming the door and pedaling off into the night. This time he had made sure to leave behind his phone, as he often did unintentionally, as a final “fuck you, I don’t care” to his parents and lovely twin brother.

He let out an angry screech as he kept moving as fast as his burning muscles would allow, and he kept screaming out into the empty night. The sound of the thunder clapping in the distance and the flash of lightning made the perfect background for his breakdown-on-wheels. Tears streamed down his face as he panted in between yells to whatever higher power was up there for giving him such a  _ shitty _ family. The rage and guilt and  _ hollowness _ bounced around inside of him and it kept  _ building _ and  _ building _ , until it was almost unbearable and slowly his shrieks of what had been passed off as teenage angst settled down into merely heart-wrenching sobs that would clog the throat of anyone who dined to listen. 

But no one really listened.

And as Remus sped past houses and houses of whole families, of  _ happy _ families, that wasn’t what bothered him, so much as the fact that even if he died tomorrow, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure they would even notice. To be frank, they would probably be happy.

He would. 

And that’s why Remus was out here, wasn’t it? In the rain, thunder, and lightning, with the cold frigid air biting at his bare skin, the yellow beanie covering his knotted hair soaked through, with his crop top (the instigator of tonight’s fiasco) clinging to his skin and his skinny jeans chafing his skin something nasty. Pushing himself to make it another mile, and then another, until he didn’t know where he was and he wasn’t sure he cared.

_ Wouldn’t it be better?  _ He thought,  _ Better if I just disappeared? _

_ Roman wouldn’t miss him _ , he mused. The two of them had been estranged for years already, their tight bond reduced to nothing but fraying strands of tinsel. His parents wouldn’t even say anything, probably. They would maybe make a cursory call to his old friends to see if he would show up, like old gum on the bottom of their shoe. And even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter anyways. He stopped hanging out with those people after meeting Janus.

Oh,  _ Janus _ . The beautiful, curly-haired angel that had stepped into his life that fateful night in the diner. The only person who could ever make him smile like a fool in the midst of his rainy and disastrous escapade. How would Janus feel?

Probably relieved. Who knows how annoyed Janus was with him. He knew how weird his thoughts were and how unorthodox his interests were.

_ “Remus, that’s disgusting! Get that out of the house!” _

__ _ “But mama, it’s just a-” _

__ _ “I don’t wanna hear it! God, why can’t you be more like Roman?” _

But Remus was a selfish person.

_ “Remus, tonight was supposed to be  _ **_my_ ** _ performance! Why did you have to ruin it like that!” _

__ _ “I’m sorry, Ro, I just thought that-” _

__ _ “You’re so selfish! I hate you!” _

__ And Selfish Remus didn’t want to let go of Janus. He was the only good thing left in his life. Well, him, and frogs. He liked frogs.

Remus was fast forwarded into the real world when the front of his bike suddenly hit a giant crack in the road. It took him a moment to realize that he was in the air and then-

_ crash _

All of the air rushed out of him in a harsh woosh, and he could practically feel the bruises forming on his back. He stayed there for a few minutes, letting the rain and mud from the road rush over him, almost wishing that the water would sweep him up and take him away. 

Almost.

He finally decided that he did not want to keep laying there, and that he would have to find some place to stay the night before he came down with hypothermia, or something. He mentally checked each portion of his body and miraculously, nothing hurt more than his ribs. Probably bruised, but he wouldn’t mind if they were broken. It would give him something to ground himself.

Hm. That didn’t sound healthy.

He tried picking himself up off the ground, but he collapsed back onto the ground, water splashing up, after a spasm of pain echoed throughout his ribs and back. “Shit,” he said out loud. “This’ll be harder than I thought.” He suddenly cursed himself for not bringing his phone.

It took quite a few more tries before Remus was able to stand up, and quite a few more to get over to his bike (with a sizable dent and a magnificent flat tire). He swore under his breath at the empty tire and glared up at the sky. The rain still poured. Looking at the road in front of him, he decided that the best course of action was, as of course, Janus. He would make it to Janus’ by midnight and just sleep on the porch of the Sanders’ house. He’d just wake up early enough to get out of there before Janus woke up to water the flowers and he’d be out of everyone’s hair for good.

Or at least that was the plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: reference to non sexual nudity, hypothermia, perceived major character death (no actual mcd and this is cleared up very quickly), discussion of medical stuffs
> 
> I intended for this to be the last chapter, but it got away from me, so hopefully by this weekend, I'll finish up the third and final chapter :D

What maybe would’ve been half an hour on his bike took two hours walking with damaged ribs. Every few steps he had to stop and gasp for air, occasionally pausing for minutes at a time to get rid of the awful cough creeping up his throat. The rain started letting up, but only just, and at this point, every single inch of the teen was soaked with water. He ditched his bike a few miles back - he’d pick it up later - but that did nothing to speed up his travels, and with every passing moment, he feared he might collapse on the ground and never get up.

He felt foolish now, for leaving like he did. It was an argument he’d had with his family before, and it certainly would happen again. He wasn’t sure what made this fight so different from the rest that he felt the need to leave. Despite it happening only hours before, it felt like a distant memory, something to be blocked off and never remembered again. 

He was okay with that. Whatever they said, it probably wasn’t pretty and he was already feeling shitty enough with the overall feeling of shame and disappointment his parents exuded whenever they saw him. No need to bring exact wording into the mix. 

Maybe it was because he was only focusing on his feet and not falling to the ground like a fish on land, but he didn’t even notice he was finally back on a sidewalk rather than just walking on the side of the road, until he almost ran into a light pole in the middle of the walkway. Looking up, he observed where he was, and almost melted at the realization that Janus was only a few minutes away.

_ No,  _ he chastised himself,  _ not Janus, you’re not going inside _ . He felt a pang in his chest unrelated to his ribs at the realization that, no, he would not be seeing his boyfriend, probably ever again. But Janus was better off without him, and the very least he could do was give him back his beanie. He pulled said beanie off his head and held it close to his chest, burying his face in the wet material. 

_ Maybe, _ he thought,  _ maybe I can keep this? It’s only a hat, and Janus has plenty of others. _

__

__ No. He shook his head firmly and took a shuddering breath as he pulled his face away from the comforting item and continued moving. Keeping the beanie would be selfish and the whole point of going to Janus’ was to give him back the hat and leave, to not be selfish. Keeping the beanie would only prove his parents right, and he didn’t want to do that.

Remus dimly realized that the rain had stopped, but cold gusts of wind still swept through the streets of the town Janus lived in, making Remus shiver so hard, he at times felt that he couldn’t move. He kept walking, anyways. It took a little bit longer than expected (see: no bike), but he still made it there. He had absolutely no idea what time it was, but he suspected that practically nobody would be awake (hell, he didn’t want to be awake right now), which suited him. 

He turned down the street and practically deflated in exhaustion when he saw the Sanders’ house. A few more yards and he found himself in the middle of their yard (he felt a bubble of pride when he saw Janus’ yellow and pink hydrangeas blooming beautifully), and a few more and he was on their front porch. He stood there in front of their door and suddenly a wall of  _ tired _ hit him like a  _ truck _ . He hugged himself, the beanie still clutched in his hands, and suddenly the world started spinning. He stumbled to the side, arms reaching out to catch himself on something. His hand slammed into the bench swing as he fell to the ground, and he whimpered. He tried moving his hand to cradle it against his chest, but it refused to move without sending shockwaves of pain down his arm. He resolved to leave it there and deal with it in the morning because he was so  _ tired. _

He just wanted to  _ sleep. _

And sleep he did. 

  
  
  


At five am, every single day, Janus Sanders got up and watered his flowers. Each day, he watered a different set of flowers (he was well-aware how easily it was to overwater his plants), and then wandered back inside to make coffee for his father and later on his dad, who always woke up an hour or two later than the other two. Today was no different.

Janus got up and stretched, checking his phone for any messages from his brother or boyfriend, but was unconcerned when he had neither. Virgil preferred calls when talking to family and Remus frequently forgot his phone places. He meandered downstairs, filling up his little watering can and bundled up in a sweater, something he recognized as Remus’, most likely left behind from the last time he was here. Something his chest warmed a bit at the thought that he was wearing his boyfriend’s clothes, and he bounced on his toes a bit, relishing in the feeling.

Still bouncing a bit, he made his way to the door, opening it with a dramatic flair, feeling a bit like a YA protagonist as he sucked in a breath of fresh air. With a little wiggle, he stepped outside only to immediately trip over something and crash to the ground with a yelp. His watering can spilled onto the steps of the porch and he made a face at the prospect of having to go back inside to refill it. But the main thing on his mind was:

What the  _ hell _ had he tripped on?

He shuffled onto his back and sat up, and went  _ shrieked _ . At his feet was a body. And not just any body, but Remus’ body. He scrambled to his knees and leaned over Remus, pulling the larger teen’s head into his lap. Janus’ heart was in his  _ throat _ , and his breath picked up in his panic. Remus’ lips were slightly blue and his skin was  _ frigid _ . Clutched in his boyfriend’s hand was Janus’ own yellow beanie, and all his clothes were soaking wet. For a heart-wrenching moment, Janus couldn’t see Remus breathe. “Papa!” he called out, his eyes never leaving Remus for a second. “ _ Papa! _ ” 

Logan woke up. He always woke up in the morning, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the sun was barely up, which was a little odd. He checked the time (5:12am) and frowned. He always woke up at 5:45am to join his son for coffee and to read a couple news articles, and very rarely did he ever wake up earlier. So that begged the question, why was he up?

A ear-bleeding shriek answered his question.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he was out of his bed, leaving behind his sleeping husband, and out into the hallway. He stopped for a moment, not understanding where the noise was coming from, but another cry echoed throughout the house. He raced down the stairs, his thoughts racing through his mind of what could have possibly happened. 

_ His son was always up before him and nothing had ever happened before, was Janus okay? Was he having a flashback? Is he hurt? Where is his  _ **_son_ ** _? _

In a very uncharacteristic fashion, Logan practically  _ slid _ down the stairs and skidded across the landing to get to the front door. When he was met with Janus sobbing over someone’s  _ body _ , whispering “it’s okay, we’ll get you help.”

“Janus!” Said boy’s head shot up, tears slipping down his face.

“ _ Papa _ ,” his son’s weak voice hit Logan in the chest. He kneeled down next to the body ( _ why was there a body? Was his son in danger? What about Patton, sleeping so peacefully in their bed? _ ) and Janus slowly lowered the front half of the body from where he was cradling it against his chest. Logan inhaled sharply. In his son’s arms was Remus, the teen whose presence had become somewhat of a normality in the Sanders’ household. Remus, his son’s  _ boyfriend _ . 

“What happened?” Logan pushed his inward panic to the back of his mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. Janus’ breath picked up and Logan reached out to pet his son’s head.

“Take a moment, Janus,  _ breathe _ .” Janus inhaled deeply and looked up at the roof of the porch, trying to blink away the tears that streamed down his face.

“I found him like this,” Janus finally croaked. “I was walking out and I tripped over him and, oh God, papa, I thought he was  _ dead _ .” He bent back over Remus, pulling him into his lap. Logan swallowed around the bump his throat.

“We must get him inside and out of these clothes. We don’t know how long he’s been like this and he needs to get warmed up.” Janus nodded as if he heard, but didn’t make any motion to let go of his boyfriend. “ _ Janus.” _

Janus whimpered and Logan’s heart cracked at the sound. Janus clutched Remus closer to his chest (Logan feared that he would have to pry the lifeless body from his son’s arms-) but he slowly released him into Logan’s awaiting arms. Logan adjusted accordingly and slowly began standing up, making sure that Janus was in a position to grab Remus if he started slipping. They both stopped when they heard a small groan from the tall teen and watched him as he screwed his eyes tighter and rolled his head from side to side. He stilled, and Logan nodded resolutely. “We need him inside. Now.” Logan turned on his heel and marched inside, hypothermic teen in his arms and beloved son in tow.

Logan struggled up the stairs to get to Janus’ bedroom and bumped his son’s door open with his hip. Janus fretted nervously in his periphery, fidgeting with the rim of his beanie, but stayed out of his father’s way. Immediately, Logan started stripping Remus of his clothes, and, mindful of how red his son would be getting, started barking out instructions. “Find the heat compresses, the dry ones. We won’t be using the heating pad.” Janus immediately started buzzing around his room, looking for compresses he kept lying around, as Logan yanked Remus’ crop top over his head. He let out an involuntary hiss at the myriad of bruises across the teen’s chest and stomach, and made sure to be in a spot to block the scene from his son. “I need you to get a few towels and all the blankets from the closet and then go wake up your father.” 

Logan saw his son nod and scuttle out of the room. He focused his attention back on Remus and sighed.  _ This is going to be hard _ .

Janus ran around the house, grabbing clean towels and blankets, and decided to grab the several first aid compresses he knew were hidden around the house (his knees still acted up to this day). He dropped everything and then some by his father, only letting himself look at Remus once, lest he start crying again.

God, he never wanted to go through that again.

After he finished gathering everything up for his father, he peeked his head into his parents’ bedroom to find his dad still snoring away. If not for the near constant ache of anxiety and slight nausea that had been accompanying Janus since finding Remus, he might’ve laughed a bit at the fact that his dad had slept through everything. 

He padded over, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his dad. He reached out and gently shook his dad once, twice, before beginning to talk to him. “Dad,” he called out, “dad, you gotta wake up.”

Blearily, his pop opening up his eyes, squinting at his son sitting right next to him. “Dee? What’s up, ho-” he yawned, his jaw popping. “What’s up, honey-bunch?” Patton sat up a bit and noticed the cold empty spot next to him. “Where’s your father?”

Janus stayed quiet for a moment, but handed his dad his glasses. “Papa’s with Remus right now,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. “I found Remus on the porch this morning,” he explained, fingers clenching the hoodie sleeves.” Patton sat up even further.

“What was Remus doing on the porch? How long had he been there?” Patton’s voice was tinged with concern. Janus pulled up his legs and buried his face into them, hugging himself. “Oh, honey, Dee, what happened?” Patton asked, reaching forward to rub Janus’ back.

“Dad, I thought he was dead.” Janus blubbered, voice muffled by the hoodie, but heart-breaking all the time. “He was just lying there, and I thought-” Janus cut himself off with a sob. inhaled sharply at the confession and wrapped his arms around his son.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey. Remus is gonna be just fine, sweetheart, I promise you,” he whispered into his son’s ear. 

“You don’t even know what  _ happened _ ,” Janus whimpered and Patton said nothing. Janus let the build-up of tears overflow and tucked his face into his dad’s shoulder. Sobs wracked his body, and with each gasping breath, Patton tightened his grip around Janus, whispering assurances all the while. They sat there for a while, before Janus sat up and wiped his tears. Janus could feel his dad watching him carefully and he steeled himself. He wouldn’t be able to be of any help to Remus if he was an emotional mess. He could break down later.

“I came in to ask if you could make some broth for Rem, for when he wakes up,” Janus told his dad, before cracking a small smile, “the crying was an unexpected addition to that request.” Patton smiled sadly in return and squeezed Janus’ shoulder.

“Let me brush my teeth and then I’ll get started on that. You want me to make you breakfast, honey?” Janus shook his head before Patton finished speaking.

“I, uh,” Janus laughed bitterly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep anything down.” And it was true. His stomach clenched every time he recalled turning over only to find Remus seemingly  _ dead _ at his feet. He didn’t think he could hold down water, let alone a full meal. Patton furrowed his brow at this, but he didn’t say anything. Janus stood up from the bed and then bent forward, giving his dad a quick kiss on the cheek, before leaving the room. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoy!! apologies for this being so late and so rushed <3  
> i might come back and fix this later, but not right now  
> warnings! : just some discussion of remus dying, and reference to remus not wanting to be alive, perceived major character death, hypothermia, bandages

It was hours before Remus woke up. Logan determined that he probably had a moderate case of hypothermia, along with some very bruised ribs, and a sprained wrist from, what they could only guess, falling on the porch. Janus, after his minor breakdown, had sat on the floor right next to his bed, and didn’t get up. Remus had been dried off and swaddled in blankets and homemade compresses, and the smell of broth from the kitchen had wafted into his room. His parents had asked him multiple times if they knew why Remus would do something like this, but to be honest, Janus had no idea. He knew his boyfriend had troubles at home, but he was never too open about what bothered him, and preferred to focus on Janus instead. Janus knew this was unhealthy, but he thought that it would be better to just wait for Remus to tell him, or wait until he knew it would be hurtful to not talk about it.

They’d definitely be talking about it now.

Janus finally relocated from the floor of his bed to the foot of it, at his dad’s insistence. “Your joints hurt enough as it is, buddy, I don’t want you to add back problems to that list,” his dad had chided softly, helping Janus from the wooden floor. Janus had simply hummed in response, the energy to speak no longer in him.

He was almost asleep, when he felt Remus’ foot move beneath him. His lidded eyes snapped open and he stared incessantly at the unconscious boy. Remus groaned and tried turning onto his side. Before Janus could stop him from moving further and hurting himself, Remus gasped in pain, eyes scrunched closed, the sudden intake of air forcing his lungs into overdrive and forcing him to cough. Janus scrambled off the bed to the floor next to Remus, grabbing his non-bandaged hand (they quickly realized Remus had also, somehow, sprained a few fingers, which only made Janus’ heart hurt more) and running his other hand through Remus’ grey streak of hair. “Hey, honey,” Janus crooned, his voice laced with concern, “you’re okay, baby, nothing’s gonna get you.” Remus kept hacking, every shaky breath rattling around in his chest. Janus wasn’t as well-versed in medicine as his father, but the sound still made him nervous. A few minutes later, Remus finally was able to suck in a few extra breaths, the cough finally subsiding. He groaned, and blinked his eyes open. The only light in the room came from the window, but even then, Janus could see the pain etched into every facet of Remus’ face. A look of recognition passed through Remus’ eyes and he shot up, panic evident in his posture.   
He barely got up a fourth of the way, before he seized up with pain and fell back onto the bed. Janus still held onto his hand, eyes nervously watching over Remus. “You okay, honey?” Remus huffed throughout his nose, rolling his head away from Janus, and he winced. “Yeah, dumb question.”  
They went quiet for a moment, save for the hitch in Remus’ chest every time he moved slightly. Janus turned his head away from Remus and set his temple against the edge of the mattress and sighed heavily.  
“You don’t have to talk about what happened,” Janus started, staring at the wall on the other side of the room, “but-”  
“-wasn’t supposed to be here,” Remus’ voice cut him off softly. Janus looked up at him, an odd expression crossing his face.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Only meant to drop off your hat,” Remus rattled off, twisting his head to look back at Janus. “I don’t know if you saw it, I-” Remus sucked in a harsh breath, setting off another round of hacking and groaning. Janus pressed closer to the bed frame. “I-” another rattling cough, “I don’t remember if I gave it to you.”  
“Why give it back?” Janus asked softly, tightening his grip on Remus’ hand. Remus kept looking at him, his stare growing in intensity, and a soft smile spread across his face. He pulled his hand away from Janus’, only to reach out and cup Janus’ face.  
“You’re the best, Janny,” Remus swept his thumb over his boyfriend’s scarred cheek, and Janus felt his heart thump a little harder against his chest. Yet, the words didn’t settle well with Janus. He didn’t like the finality.  
“Hm, and why’s that?” Janus asked nonetheless, moving his arm up so as to hold Remus’ palm against his face. Remus shrugged carefully, but still with a little bit of his Remus energy.  
“You just are.” Janus blushed, and turned his face to press a kiss into Remus’ palm. He stayed there for a moment, face in his boyfriend’s hand, He shut his eyes and, for a moment, pretending they weren’t where they were. That his boyfriend hadn’t almost frozen to death on his front porch, that Janus hadn’t just waited for hours for Remus to wake up. That he hadn’t thought the love of his life was dead at his feet.  
Belatedly, Janus realized that he was crying. He kissed Remus’ palm once more and pulled away with a half-hearted sniff to try and clear his now-clogged sinuses. He looked up at Remus and found him staring strongly at Janus, tears streaming down his face as well. Janus set Remus’ hand aside and reached up to wipe the tears off of Remus’ face. “What happened, Remus?” he asked sadly.  
Remus sniffed in return, and turned his head up to the ceiling, pulling away from Janus’ hands. “I got into an argument with my mom.” Janus’ eyes crinkled sympathetically.  
“And?”  
“I, I don’t remember much after walking out,” Remus croaked softly. “It was raining, I think. At one point, I just-”  
“Blanked out?”  
“I think so. I can’t remember.” Janus hummed. He sighed and decided to get up off the ground, his knees cracking in protest. Remus’ eyes followed him as he stood up and carefully laid himself down next to his boyfriend, cautious not to press against Remus’ ribs. He set his head down on Remus’ shoulder and tucked his head in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, setting his arms across the very little of Remus’ chest that wasn’t bandaged to high hell.  
Remus was very cold and as tactless as Janus was, he told him that. Remus merely shrugged and with a small bit of repressed horror, Janus realized that Remus didn’t seem all that concerned that he almost died. Once again, No-Tact-Janus let it slip from his lips.  
“I mean, I figured.”  
“You figured?”  
“It’s not everyday I end up in the softest bed ever covered in bandaids.”  
Janus snorted. “They’re not bandaids, silly.”  
“Are you covered in them?” Remus gave a small, yet toothy smile, moving his head slightly so he could look down at Janus. Said boyfriend looked up and his eyes crinkled with joy at the smile.  
“Well, no, I guess I’m not, but I know wha-”  
“Well, I declare myself the resident expert on all things bandaids as the only person in the room covered in them, so I say that they’re bandaids.” Janus smiled wider, and he shifted slowly to throw his legs across Remus’ waist.  
“I’m glad you’re alive, Rem.”  
Remus didn’t say anything, but Janus could feel wet droplets hitting his skin and just held on tighter.


End file.
